Early enrollment makes sense for UNC, maybe not McAdoo

The big news in Chapel Hill this week is that James McAdoo, the No. 3 player in the country in ESPNU's class of 2011, is contemplating an early graduation and thus early enrollment at North Carolina. This, of course, is huge. And while the impact would obviously leave the Tar Heels drastically retooled, the biggest impact on this decision is on McAdoo himself.

The obvious comparison, at this point, is the similar circumstance in which Andre Dawkins enrolled early at Duke. But make no mistake – this is different.

Dawkins was a top recruit, sure, but he didn't have anything on the potential that McAdoo brings to the table. What makes McAdoo's decision so highly anticipated is the trend it will set for players like him in the future. With the rocky marriage that is the NCAA-to-NBA eligibility rule, there will be more and more instances of coaches recruiting their programs into a corner via the feast-or-famine approach.

It's easy to think, and rightfully so, that McAdoo has the potential to make an impact right away. Anyone who thinks he can't has never seen this kid play. Sure, he's 17, but his body is older – 6-foot-8, 205. Comparisons to LeBron James' style of play have been tossed out there, and they're accurate. Don't get me wrong, this kid is not LeBron James. But he is strong and aggressive, fearless when attacking the rim. College is a tougher game, to be sure, but trust me, these kids are playing some serious high school basketball in the Tidewater region of Virignia – I grew up there.

So I don't think there's any question that he can make an impact. The real question is whether he'll get the chance to. One would have to think that a player of his talent would have to get significant minutes, rather than be rushed to campus for use in case of emergency. And while I'd be lying if I said I don't hope to see him in a Tar Heel uniform next season, I do hope that if he's here, it's because it's best for him.

One thing I'm not sure about, and perhaps someone could help me out, is whether the NBA eligibility clock starts from the date you graduate, or from the date you were originally supposed to graduate. The way I understand it, it's the former, and if that's the case, this is going to usher in a whole new era of kids trying to make the leap to the professional ranks as quickly as possible.

Knox to be a Tar Heel? It looks like it.

After dinner at Shula's 347 Grill in Chapel Hill, the North Carolina coaching staff and potential Alabama transfer, Justin Knox, all looked very happy. That's great news for battered Tar Heel fans everywhere.

It's been reported that Georgia Tech and UNC are front-runners in the race to land one of the best of the few recruits left to be had, and it's hard to imagine that this revelation doesn't lock things up for the latter. Knox, a 6-foot-9, 245-pound big man has been cleared to play this season, and the departure of David and Travis Wear — better known, on the defensive end of the floor, as Bum and Bummer — has left UNC's front line shallower than a plastic pool. (I was gonna say Lawrence Taylor, but figured it was too soon.)

My personal opinions aside, Knox would be as good a fit as any for North Carolina. Despite their lead-footedness, the Wear twins did give UNC depth that it will certainly lack should Roy Williams prove unable to scramble together the best of what is still available. Signing Knox would be the equivalent of nabbing a veteran free agent in the professional ranks, and veterans are as hard to find as big men in Chapel Hill right now.

I can't say that I know a single thing about Justin Knox other than what I've read and what a good friend (and Alabama transfer as well) has shared of his experiences watching him in Tuscaloosa. But if there is one thing that your run-of-the-mill Tar Heel fan learned from last year's 20-17 campaign, it's that you don't plug in a crop of freshman, regardless of what Ronald McDonald thinks of them, and reliably expect to win a championship.

Five years ago, none of these kids coming in (we all know who they are by now) would be in the starting lineup. That doesn't mean that a young player wouldn't see significant minutes as a Tar Heel, but there's a barometric difference in having your name called in front of 21,750 just before tip off. (I know, I know, no one's ever there before the game, but it's for the effect ... you get me.) It's my opinion that North Carolina is a lot closer to a national championship by virtue of its 2009 title, rather than one that may lie ahead. A blessing might come in the form of an NBA lockout, thus keeping the 2010 class in place for at least one more season, which would help, but unless that happens it's important to understand that Tyler Hansbrough, that is a dominant, three- or four-year player is less likely to walk through the door these days.

That makes the ability of a sign-and-play transfer like Knox that much more important. His numbers, 5.7 ppg and 5.1 rpg in 2008-09 and 6.3 ppg and 3.7 rpg last year, aren't gaudy, so don't get too carried away. But his intelligence (he was on the SEC All-Academic team last year) and size would provide the Tar Heels with what I think they need more than anything -- a competent role player. He's an above average free-throw shooter, too.

I see the 2010 lineup looking something like this:

PG - Larry Drew
SG - Will Graves
SF - Harrison Barnes
PF - John Henson
C - Tyler Zeller

Do I think that Dexter Strickland, Reggie Bullock and Kendall Marshall are also potential starters? Absolutely. But my intuition is that Williams will do the best he can to stick to the script of starting as many upper classmen as possible. If Leslie McDonald could find the shooting touch that the Tar Heels hoped he would last season, and Justin Watts finds his comfort zone, then North Carolina has a very respectable and super-athletic bench.

So, where the Wears' transfer certainly came unexpectedly, it plays right into the hands of the offensive scheme that predicated the Tar Heels' two most recent championship runs. What UNC loses in size it has gained in athleticism, and at the college level athletes win. But as I said before, I'm not ready to climb to the highest point in Chapel Hill and proclaim North Carolina's return to the national scene just yet, but I do think the storm has passed.

Arenas a big shot on court, and in it

The only person who needs 30 days in a halfway house is the D.C. Superior Court judge who handed Washington Wizards star Gilbert Arenas that same amercement.

It's hard to tell which is the bigger crime – the one Arenas committed, or the travesty that is his punishment for it.

I've already seen arguments about how it's unfair because of what happened to New York Giants wide receiver Plaxico Burress on different, yet similar charges. I'm going to leave that out altogether. This sentence has nothing to do with anyone else, and everything to do with injustice.

For the record, I like Gilbert Arenas. He's not my favorite player, but he's other-wordly talented, and his care-free personality can be both entertaining and comforting in a medium where people often take themselves way too seriously. He's candid and interesting, but in this case, stupid.

My view has nothing to do with who committed the crime. It's the crime itself that is deserving of punishment – real punishment, not the adult equivalent of being put in time out.

This guy brought not one, but several guns … to an arena … in Washington, D.C.! D.C. prides itself on strict gun laws, and in the world we live in, it should. Add to that that this crime occurred in a place where tens of thousands of people can gather on any given night, and the issue is compounded tenfold.

Arenas' attorney, Kenneth Wainstein, cited financial consequences as a reason for a lesser sentence, part of a 221-page document.

I'm not a legal analyst, lawyer or even law student. I haven't heard the rationale for the Judge Robert E. Morin's sentence.

It doesn't matter.

Nowhere in the law does it suggest that any amount of income has anything to do with punishment for a crime, or that losses of income has anything to do with sentencing. If it did, it would allow identical crimes to be punished differently, depending on how many zeros are in a person's paycheck.

But that's exactly what the judge decided in this case.

Assistant U.S. Attorney Christopher Kavanaugh's recommendation - three months in jail followed by three years probation and 300 hours community service - fell on deaf ears, and that's too bad because it made a lot more sense:

“... such a sentence essentially would tell the community that you can commit a serious offense, with a criminal history, and joke about it later. With enough money, fame and the right representation, you can avoid paying the price that others in this city would certainly pay in these circumstances. Such a message undermines the bedrock belief that the sentences of criminal defendants are handed out equally, and it is the wrong message to send to the city of Washington, D.C., particularly those members of the community that have idolized Gilbert Arenas in the past, and who may sympathize with him in the present.”

I don't know. Maybe it's just be. I'll leave it up to you.

So, to quote Arenas: “Pick 1.”

The 2010 @bstuntin

Three-team trade good for James, Jamison

If you follow me on Twitter (@bstuntin), then whether you like it or not, you're well aware that I'm a pretty big LeBron James fan. And as a seventh-year senior at the University of North Carolina, you could imagine my excitement when I heard that Wizards forward, and UNC alum, Antawn Jamison was headed to Cleveland in a three-team trade.

While a large part of my excitement is derived from the fact that I'm looking for the upper hand in the LeBron > Kobe debate, I was even happier for Jamison. He is a two-time all-star (who has deserved the honor many more times) and a consummate professional. But late-season success at both the college and professional levels as eluded him.

As a Tar Heel in 1998, Jamison averaged 19.0 points and 9.9 rebounds per game, earning him the Naismith and Wooden Awards as the nation's most outstanding player. Those accolades qualified him to become just the seventh player in North Carolina history to have his number retired. During the Final Four that year, Jamison's Tar Heels (which included Vince Carter, and some argue was the best UNC team ever), were stunned by Utah in the semifinals.

The following June, Jamison became the first pick of the Toronto Raptors (No. 4 overall), and was swapped for Carter, landing him with Golden State Warriors. And in a situation that is eerily similar to that of Al Thornton, who comes to Washington from the Los Angeles Clippers in the deal, Jamison escaped one lowly franchise only to join another.

So finally, after 11 NBA seasons, Jamison will again get his shot.

His addition to the Cavs is a complete game changer. His ability to defend, and to score, in the post will help neutralize players like Pau Gasol of the Lakers and Dwight Howard of the Magic, while giving Cleveland the clear advantage against just about everyone else in the league.

It's now or never for the team who's future is completely up to chance.

Heads or tails? You call it.

When North Carolina hosted Duke last Wednesday, things just weren't the same.

Sure, the Tar Heels have had a forgettable year, but the beauty of a rivalarly like the one shared between these two universities is that no season is ever a lost cause if the other remains to be played.

And while UNC played inspired basketball and kept the game competitive for about 36 minutes, there was a subtle sign that seemed, to me, to personfiy North Carolina's misfortune this season.

I think it happened around the 8-minute mark. I can't seem to tell from the play-by-play. But Deon Thompson made a basket to tie the game, really swaying the momentum in UNC's favor. Then, the ball bounced away, prompting a whistle from the referee. It just so happened that that whistle was timed such that a media timeout ensued, thus thwarting a rally before it even had the chance to begin.

Now, I'm not saying that the blame for the Tar Heels' collapse down the stretch is or should be atttributed to that. But it is interesting to note that, when things aren't going your way – no matter what team you are, turning the tide isn't always a matter of X's and O's.

It was the first time this season that North Carolina coach Roy Williams rode his horses for the duration. Freshman John Henson showed promise, Sophomore Larry Drew II showed poise at times, and the Tar Heels, as a whole, largely avoided issues that have plagued them all season – despite a strong defensive effort from the Blue Devils.

Duke scored just five points off turnovers. Five.

The Tar Heels gave the ball away just 12 times, and scored more points on the break, more points in the paint, and got more points off the bench.

Yet after that ill-timed media whistle, UNC scored just nine points, two of which came on a meaningless jumper by Drew II in the game's final seconds.

Make no mistake about it. The teams that are good win. But they don't always win on talent and execution. Sometimes the ball has to bounce your way. Hell, N.C. State and Duke each won a national championship thanks to plays that leave people scratching their heads to this day.

I'm really not trying to degrade either accomplishment. Who's to say that North Carolina would have a banner in 1982 were it not for an ill-advised pass to James Worthy?

My point is this: When you're hot, you're hot.

But that's a two-sided coin.

NF(whatthehel)L?

Who does Roger Goodell think he is? Just read an article on ESPN.com that informed me of league-imposed blackouts of home games in Detroit and Oakland this weekend.

Why?

Get this: Because both teams "failed to sell all their tickets for Sunday's games by an NFL-imposed deadline."

I'll bet they're not blacked out on the NFL Network.

The NFL cannot be serious.

I couldn't care less about the Oakland Raiders or the Detroit Lions. But I do care about the fact that, in general, these people can't afford tickets.

Of the 20 U.S. cities with the highest unemployment rate, eight are located in Michigan and six are in California. According to the latest report by the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, Michigan's unemployment rate, at 15.2 percent, is by far the highest in America. California isn't too far behind. Its rate, 12.2 percent, is fifth highest.

All this does is prove that the self-imposed pay cut that the commissioner game himself this off season was a bunch of malarkey. These teams don't even deserve the support they do get. They're terrible. But as a lifelong fan of the New York Mets and Washington Redskins, I am well-aware of the toll it takes on a person to continually give their heart and soul to a disappointing franchise.

And while I have no idea what each the Lions' and Raiders' ticket and concession prices look like, I am willing to bet that they're not worth it.

This policy is a slap in the face, not just to fans in these two cities, but to every fan of the NFL.

So Rog, I have an idea: Why don't you put down all that money these fans are handing you for just a second, and use that shield (and some damn common sense) to protect them?

Atlas Shrugged

Just before Michael Jordan took the stage to make his Hall of Fame induction speech, I changed my Facebook status to: "Brandon Staton has been waiting his whole life for this speech ... ." And I had been. As a kid, I, like everyone else, idolized this guy. He could do no wrong -- until he took the stage.

Friday's Yahoo! Sports article by Adrian Wojnarowski busted MJ's balls. And if you saw the speech, it's easy to ascertain why. Rather than fill his spot with some quotable mastery, Jordan leaned more toward forgettable misery.

Still, Wojnarowski was harsh in his criticism. Jordan's life, especially his professional life, has followed that of a Greek tragedy. A hero on top of the world; a man with endless earthly possessions and a renowned fame that mortals only daydream about.

But as rare as it is that a talent like his comes along, the mindset necessary to obtain such excellence is a mystery in itself. Very intelligent people spend their professional lives trying to figure out what's different about the mind of a serial killer, a genius, a manic despressive. The brain chemistry of a man like Michael Jordan is one in a billion, and no one can expect to understand with any certainty what makes greatness tick any more than what makes a killer kill, an equation click or the grip on reality slip away.

Very few of us know what it's like to be great. We so admire greatness that we don't want to associate reality with it. We hope that it's great, always.

I saw Michael Jordan play with the Bulls in 1998, when Chicago finished the year with an NBA single-season record of 72-10. It was the only chance I ever had. I was 13, and I remember being disappointed when I left the Georgia Dome because Jordan only scored 34 points. I wanted 50, 60 ... 80.

I wanted greatness.

After that speech, I sat and thought about it for awhile, and I wondered what it must be like to do something better than anyone ever has and it still not be good enough.

I invite you, and Mr. Wojnarowski, to think about that, too.

Michael Jordan earned the right to say whatever he wanted when he took the stand to take his rightful place among the greatest in the game. Still, as a fan, it's fair to say that Jordan's speech was a disappointment.

But don't let that dilute the fact that his career was anything but.

The Board is back

Class starts Tuesday. Not sure if I mentioned already or not, but I'm taking a blogging class. That could mean only one thing:

The return of this pointless blog!

Interestingly, I saw a friend a couple weeks ago for the first time in a while. "I love reading your blog," she said.

"You must really read it a lot," I replied. "Because I haven't updated it in a month."

But as you can see, the demand is overwhelming. And with the college sports season gearing up again, I figured I might as well dump my opinions into the Web for the world to see, so like Brett Favre, Jay-Z, MJ and all the other greats before me, today I am announcing my return for blog-retirement.

I'm trying something a little different this year. I've created a twitter account for the blog. @OffensiveBoard is where you'll find the latest updates and perhaps an occasional twitpic, whenever I figure out how to use that.

More exciting news; some good, some bad. I have a camera now! That's the good news. The bad? Well, the charger is already missing. So as soon as I round one up, we'll try to make this already outstanding Internet destination a little more exciting.

One last thing. The Offensive Board is kind of a crappy name, don't you think? I'm thinking about tweeting Chad Ocho Cinco and asking him for some ideas, but if one of you would like to chime in, feel free.

"Obviously you're not a golfer..."

Played golf today. Not sure why. Though I am a terrible and often frustrated golfer, I did find some satisfaction today in the form of a 52 on the front nine. And that was with two eight's on my scorecard. With darkness approaching, my friend (whom I will not name to protect the fact that he is twice as bad at golf as I am) made the turn to bludgeon our self-esteem for a few more holes before wising up and calling it quits...

First hole, par four: Six.

Second hole, par three: Six (I think).

Third hole, par four: Five.

Fourth hole, par four: One!

Yep, one -- on a par four! That's because I hit the tee shot about like you would expect Miguel Tejada to hit an outside fastball at Minute Maid Park (does Tejada hit left-handed? If not, then that analogy won't exactly make sense, but we'll roll with it anyway). My only goal was to crush it, and I did ... way left. Over the trees, with enough hang time for the following dialogue to take place:

Brandon: "Dude, that is all over a house."

The protected: "Is it?"

Brandon: "Listen..."

[Pause]

Golf ball [upon contact with roof]: "BAM!"

Brandon: "OK man, we're outta here."

The protected: "Come on, I'm sure their house gets hit all the time."

Brandon: "Not like that. And even if it does, that doesn't mean they like it."

The protected: "It's summer and they live at a country club. Relax, they're probably on vacation."

Brandon: "Very valid point. But we're leaving."

[End dialogue]

And that was that.

Don't worry, I'm still here

Well, it's been a couple of months. Sorry. I successfully have completed two sessions of summer school, and the strangest thing happened. My GPA improved. Weird. Anyhow, I plan to be getting back at it here at TOB. I'll be taking a class about blogging in the Fall, so let's hope that makes this blog more interesting. As far as anything interesting to put here, I have nothing.

My professor asked in class the other day if anyone in the class blogged. Not sure why I actually admitted to it, but I did. I was the only one. He was asking a question about adsense.

"How much do you make on adsense, about $100 a month?"

I laughed. I've had this blog since January 2008, and I had like $42 when Google determined that I could no longer keep my adsense account because of the clicking patterns associated with it. They repaid that handsome sum back to the advertisers. Thanks for nothing.

More to follow.

Bobby Frasor? Well, he's no Erin Andrews, but I guess he'll do.

Well, my life has been so boring lately that I haven't so much as heard of anything worth blogging about. So I'll share this video that was sent to me by a soon-to-be professor. Most of you have probably seen this by now, but for those who haven't, enjoy.

http://espn.go.com/video/clip?id=4170417&categoryid=3025809

It won't let me save the video, so you'll have to click the link, sorry.

Play ball

Not sure how many of you know this, but for the past few summers I have spent several nights a week pilfering through the happenings of the American Association and Can-Am League, two independent minor-league baseball leagues spread throughout the Midwest, Northeast and, you guessed it, Canada. If you have ever heard of the St. Paul Saints, and you probably haven't, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. It's generally the final resting place for former big leaguers like Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd, Darryl Strawberry and even, it appears, Eric Gagne, who has signed with the Quebec Capitales of the Can-Am League, and will fill a spot in their starting rotation of all places.

Sometimes the leagues can serve as a stop for players like Luke Hochevar, and their agents (Scott Boras, shocker), who feel that $2.98 million just isn't quite enough. Hochevar was drafted by the Los Angeles Dodgers in the first round (No. 40 overall) of the 2005 draft, but couldn't come to terms on a contract, hence opting for a stint with the Fort Worth Cats of the American Association before re-entering in 2006 where he was selected No. 1 overall by the Kansas City Royals. The move turned out to be a good one for Hochevar and friends. His signing bonus increased to $5.3 million and incentives made his deal worth as much as $7 million.But both examples aside, these leagues, and all independent leagues, are places where people find themselves if they just plain love baseball. The money is scarce, the glory is absent and the travel accommodations are a nightmare. But tucked away in random cities and towns are teams who play baseball, plain and simple, and fans who love to watch. Each year, a few teams come and a few teams go. So it wasn't until the Can-Am opened its season tonight that I heard about this interesting team in Nashua, New Hampshire, a small liberal town about 40 miles north of Boston. Though the team is largely unknown, it has a rich history. In the late 1940s, the Nashua Dodgers' lineup card featured the likes of Roy Campanella behind the plate, and Don Newcombe on the mound - a far cry from the likes of the aforementioned, if you ask me.

Yet, even that isn't what has impressed me the most; what has given me hope for baseball. No, it's just their name: The American Defenders of New Hampshire. Complete with camouflage uniforms, they look like a cross between the USA baseball team and the San Diego Padres during spring training. But don't be fooled. This isn't some military stunt to draw sympathy. There is history behind this team - and plenty of it. It's just nice to know that baseball still exists. Real baseball. And the whole military theme just gives one the impression, if playing for nothing didn't already, that these guys are just happy to have the chance - and appreciative of those who have enable them to have one.

Knock, knock, knock: Housekeeping!

Yeah ... someone break out the broom.

I just wanted to get this out there before the series got started. The Magic and Cavavliers are about to tip off, LeBron James just tossed up the Johnson&Johnson, and I've got the Cavs in four. About the only person that seems to be remotely on board with me for this one is PTI co-host Tony Kornheiser, who took Cleveland in five. I don't understand why people think that Orlando can hang. The only way that Dwight Howard gets involved, and I mean really gets involved, is if the Magic are hitting from outside. This forces opposing defenses to honor their shooters (Rashard Lewis just clanked a three somethin' awful on the Magic's first field goal attempt) and not pack the lane.

To me, they just haven't proven able to do that consistently enough, especially in the face of defenses as good as Cleveland. Plus, the Cavs are underrated in terms of the bodies they throw at Howard (Jesus, Dwight just threw down a dunk so hard that he broke the freakin' shot clock!) in the paint. Guys like Joe Smith and Ben Wallace are completely inferior to the athleticism of Howard, but are veterans nontheless, making them affable at handling a player that has yet to prove that he can dominate if things aren't necessarily going his way.

Then, of course, there is LeBron James. James is the best player in the league and has undeniably been the best player in the playoffs. And unlike Howard, James does not feed off of his teammates. Rather, they feed off of him. And no player left in the playoffs is better at getting his team involved. Anyway, not really a lot to say, just wanted to get out there on the line and take the Cavs in a sweep.

Your thoughts?

It's in the baggage: Kentucky gets Wall, "advisor"

Finally this kid announced what has been known for a couple of weeks now. John Wall will play of John Calipari at Kentucky next season. Part of me wishes that he had landed at Duke. Mark my words, John Wall is an NCAA violation waiting to happen. Though, admittedly, these issues seem to fall by the wayside wherever big stars are concerned, such a blemish on Duke University would have been a nice card to have in our hand. Questions surrounding the likes of O.J. Mayo, Reggie Bush and, most recently, Nate Miles have been suffieciently swept under the rug after a week or so of initial media hype in each case.

But Brian Clifton, the "advisor" to Wall is a storm on the horizon, the way I see it, for the NCAA. Google "Brian Clifton D-One coach" and you won't find a single picture of the man himself, but you'll get plenty of John Wall. Now, I'm not stupid. I know these kids have their guys. The benefits of being a college athlete abound, and the better you are, the more lucrative, and invincible, those benefits seem to be. It happens everywhere, from North Carolina to North Dakota. But, until now, it is rarely advertised. Clifton is trouble for this kid, and everyone knows it. John Wall wanted to play for Calipari all along, and was said by a source close to the situation to have decided on Kentucky weeks ago, after severing ties from Memphis when Calipari departed. Yet, as late as last week, there are reports that Wall went as far as making an informal commitment to Miami. It has been reported that if Clifton got his way, Wall would be a Blue Devil. North Carolina was rumored to show interest and schools that didn't even make any sense, like N.C. State and Baylor, were also part of the equation.

If anyone understands the distaste between Duke and North Carolina, it's me - and probably any of you who are reading this. But to let that get in the way of a decision as big as this one - especially when that decision isn't even yours to make? Clifton was quoted by N&O as follows: "I have no desire to talk to, to be involved with, to visit, to contemplate in any shape, form or fashion John Wall going to play for Roy Williams. Zero."

He told 850 The Buzz: “I don’t have any respect for Roy Williams. I encourage [my players] to play for guys that will inspire them to be good people. If you’re not a good person, you can’t make someone a good person.”

Memphis' graduation rate, had Wall gone there, was 55 percent.

Kentucky, where Wall is headed, pumps out graduates at a whopping rate of 38 percent.

North Carolina? Eighty-six percent.

The last time I checked, education is a pretty good gauge as to which programs promote character and integrity in this country. But it's not like John Wall will ever graduate anyway. From the outside looking in, Clifton's way of doing seems to parallel that of an agent. A really stupid agent. So the more the NCAA allows soap operas like this one to play out, the more the NCAA will parallel that of the NBA. Is he in it for the good of his "client?"

"Good people" certainly wouldn't be in it for the pay day, would they? And I am willing to bet that Brian Clifton is not as involved with his other players' college decisions as is with the kid that just so happens to be the next big thing.

You be the judge, since the NCAA, it appears, will not be.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Smile Duke and State fans! You have something to cheer about!

Well, I bailed on the Economics class. No surprise there. Don't worry, though, I'm still rockin' out Spanish 102, so I'll keep you posted on the state of my voyage toward bilingual-ism.

Anyway, back to sports. I am currently at work, and just now got the link on 99.9's Web site to work. As soon as the I hear the dude's voice, he's calling a Boston Bruins' goal to tie the game at 6:19. It's 2-2 now. Another exciting game. Funny that excitement was the intended topic of this post anyhow. (Just heard Ric Flair go "Woooooooo" in the background following the Bruins' goal. Isn't it funny how the Bostonians took that from us?) I mean, think about it. Hockey? In North Carolina? I don't know about you, but I've spent half my life in the Tidewater region of Virginia, and the rest of it on the coast of North Carolina. I've never even seen a frozen pond, that I know of. And if I have, my parents sure as hell weren't about to let me skate on it. Yet here I am, cursing at a computer for the last hour because it wouldn't load the feed to the game.

Full disclosure: I hate bandwaggon fans. With that said, I'm 100-percent on the Carolina Hurricanes' bandwaggon - or Zamboni, if you will. Now, I've gotten into it before, the last time the Hurricanes were somebody. Got to hold the Stanley Cup, and have a picture to prove it:
But this year really seems to be different. You don't have to know anything about hockey specifically to know that the Hurricanes' run to the playoffs and their performance there thusfar is impressive. They are certainly the underdog, which everyone outside Boston has gotta love. Then, they used the Bruins like a whipping post for the first few games, only to let a 3-1 series lead fade to its current 3-3. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that hockey really has what we all really want. It's like a hybrid of baseball, soccer, football and professional wrestling. Even has a touch of a little Ron-Artestian NBA.

The Hurricanes themselves have what a fan of any sport wants in its team, too. (4:48 to go in regulation. Still 2-2.) There is superstar Eric Staal. Fan favorites like Cam Ward and Rod Brind'Amour and a dude named Jussi Jokinen. More importantly for the triangle reason, it gives N.C. State and Duke fans something to cheer for. Finally, I don't have to hear them whine for once. And if the 'Canes don't make it, I'll be right there with them.

"I'm not sure how well I speak English."

Yep. That is a direct quote from my Economics professor. Not exactly the first thing you want to hear - on your third trip through the same course. But still, here I am, flabbergasted. Fatma Gunay. She says that we'll never be able to pronounce her last name, so just call her "Fatma." OK. At least I'm not the only one here who looks puzzled. As a matter of fact, everyone does. Yet I somehow get the feeling that most of them will easily pass. My only hope at this point appears to be the fact that the syllabus says that a 40 or better will get me at least a "D." Hopefully that's not a mistake with the language. I'll step outside the sports realm to keep you posted on my progess. She's giving an example now and five hands just shot up. There are like 30 people in the class, so that's not good. I better pay attention!

Oh Manny

There are few whose words I take as the gospel truth. Peter Gammons is one of those few. So when Gammons said a few minutes ago, on ESPN's SportsCenter, that he genuinely believes that Manny Ramirez is not a steroids guy, I believe him. Ramirez, the Los Angeles Times reports, has been suspended for 50 games by Major League Baseball for violating the league's anti-drug policy. According to Gammons, and a statement released by Ramirez through the Players' Association, Ramirez received a prescription for a "personal medical condition" from a doctor in Florida, and that medication contained a substance banned by MLB. Manny also said in his statement that he has taken and passed "about 15" tests during the past five seasons.

Sure, one has to walk cautiously with all the lies, the "but I didn't know"'s, the whole blame game. And Ramirez is far from a saint as many are concerned. I saw Manny Ramirez playing right field for the Cleveland Indians in 1999 at Camden Yards in Baltimore, Md. He was much younger then. The dreads were in their infant stages - a small Afro. He wore his pants pulled up to the knee, rather than down, over his cleats. And I remember as if it were yesterday that Ramirez had the biggest calf muscles I have ever seen. From atop the scoreboard in right field, it looked like he had softballs packed into his socks.

I'll make one thing clear. I am a huge, HUGE Manny Ramirez fan. In my opinion, he is the best hitter of our time, and maybe the best two-strike hitter the game has ever seen. But in the back of my mind, that image of those unreal, super-human calf muscles in 1999 have often made me wonder if there was more to the story than a whole lot of leg raises. Maybe it's the baggy uniform, but Ramirez seems to have ballooned since his early days - just like McGwire, just like Sosa, just like Bonds. And at the same rate, so have Manny's numbers - just like McGwire, just like Sosa, just like Bonds.

I was always concerned that Manny Ramirez would find himself in the middle of this steroid-era pandemic. But no one has mentioned Ramirez in any book. He's not in the Mitchell Report. He's never tested positive. For that reason, it's people like Los Angeles Times reporter Bill Plaschke that really piss me off. He's on SportsCenter right now, jumping the gun, calling for Ramirez's head. But unfortunately, he might be right. But for now, I'm going with Gammons and believing Manny. But I'm afraid this might be the last time I'm able to give a baseball player the benefit of the doubt.

"The Birdman" is the word, man.

If you know me, you know I'm a baseball guy. For me, this is baseball season. The NBA playoffs, the PGA, the NHL playoffs, the NFL draft ... that stuff is secondary entertainment. But these days there are fewer and fewer baseball games on television, leaving me to drift a bit from my comfort zone and pay a little more attention to the fore-mentioned events. Like right now. I'm watching Game 1 of the series between the Denver Nuggets and Dallas Mavericks. Yeah, seriously. Not that I care who wins, but I always have to pick somebody. In this case it's Denver. George Karl is a Carolina guy; J.R. Smith should have been. Chauncey Billups is just a guy that you can't help rooting for. Carmelo Anthony is an Oak Hill alum, and that's where my grandmother graduated from in 1950 - long before the desolate high school became a breeding ground for NBA superstars-to-be.

Then there is Chris Andersen. This time a few years ago, I was crowing about what a clown this guy is. This dude dropped out of Houston and played one year at Blinn College before not getting drafted and ending up in China. Somehow he wound up in the NBA at some point after and was invited to the NBA All-Star Weekend in 2005 (he was also there in 2004) where he proceeded to embarrassed himself, and the the NBA. You may remember Andersen, also known as "Birdman", missing the first eight attempts at his first dunk, then clanking the first five attempts at his second. As it turned out, whiffing dunks in front of a national audience was the least of this guy's problems. In January of 2006, Andersen was suspended from the NBA for violating the league's anti-drug policy by testing positive for a banned substance. That substance was not identified, but was known not to be performance-enhancing drugs or marijuana. The substance was categorized under "drugs of abuse" leading The Denver Post to peg Andersen as "the most disgraced NBA player since the drug-induced haze of the 1980's." The article didn't say anything about how his grandfather abused him as a child, or how he was estranged from his mother. He and his long-time girlfriend broke things off when he arrived in New Orleans and Andersen lost his house in Hurricane Katrina.

It took him until March of 2008 to gain reinstatement into the NBA. Shortly thereafter, he found himself released by the New Orleans Hornets and signed to a one-year deal with the Nuggets. And now, in May 2009 I am watching this guy be a serious contributor on one of the most exciting team's in the NBA. Andersen, a shot-block specialist, looks like a moron. His hair is ridiculous and his excessive tattoos make him look like a hip-hop wannabe. At least that's what I used to think. It appears that this guy has made an effort to clean himself up and turn his life around. So every time he hype the crowd with his trademark wing flap - even though he looks more like a rooster than a bird that can actually fly - I sit here and love every second of it. If you have the ability to look in the mirror one day and muster enough courage to make those kind of changes, what difference does it make what you look like? If you're a Chris Andersen hater, just know that I used to be too. But the truth of the matter is, he is one hell of a basketball player. And it may not look like he has much sense, but he apparently had enough to do the right thing.